


In Memoriam

by OneHandedBooks



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Drunken Kisses Challenge, Episode: s02e05 Mukozuke, Grief, M/M, Missing Scene, Past Character Death, Rare Pair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 23:03:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7242379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneHandedBooks/pseuds/OneHandedBooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Price and Zeller drink frozen vodka and memorialize Beverly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Memoriam

They sat shoulder to shoulder on the cool white tile floor with their backs to the metal drawers that held all that was left of Beverly. They were slowly sharing out the bottle of vodka she had stashed in one of the morgue freezers. _For emergencies_ , she’d said. Beyond their little circle of boozy warmth, the air was cold and still. It carried the ritual smell of death- steel and Benzarid and latex, the lingering copper of old blood.

Jimmy drank deeply and passed the bottle of vodka to Brian. “You remember the time she put that severed finger in Bob’s desk when he wouldn’t stop asking her out and he didn’t notice it until it started to stink?” Jimmy giggled. “He never figured out who did it, you know? And he stomped around the lab for weeks bitching about it and Bev was cool as cool?”

Brian nodded as they bent forward together, shoulders braced by laughter.

Brian sat back against the cold steel, put his mouth on the rim of the bottle where Jimmy’s had been, and drank. “You remember when she got that rag doll and wrote the name of that guy who dumped you on it in Sharpie and we all stuck it full of needles?”

Jimmy’s answering smile trembled and slid, turning the corners of his mouth down. “Yeah,” he whispered harshly. “I remember.” Tears welled in his eyes and overflowed.

“Oh hey. Don’t do that,” Brian said, eyes wide and slightly panicked. He wrapped an arm around Jimmy’s shoulders and pulled him closer.

“She bought me an orchid too after that. She said...” Jimmy paused and sucked in a broken breath. “She said I should have something to take care of. To...to take my mind off things.” He leaned against Brian’s side and covered his face with his hands.

Brian squeezed him once, hard against his side. “I know, buddy,” he murmured. “I know.”

Jimmy sniffed. “She had brass balls. You remember the time she flat out asked Will Graham to his face if he was unstable? Like the first second she met him.”

Brian’s face darkened and Jimmy felt his fingers dig briefly into the muscle of his shoulder.

“Fuck Will Graham,” he spat. “All this craziness started with that freak.”

“I’m sure Jack thought…” Jimmy began hesitantly, looking at Brian out of the corner of his eye.

“Fuck Jack too,” Brian finished. He passed the bottle of vodka carefully back to Jimmy. The thin icy crust on the outside had long since melted; it felt almost slick enough to slip through his fingers. “Here. Drink.”

Jimmy raised the bottle to the light. There was just about one good swallow left. “You sure you don’t want it?” he asked.

“Nah, I’m drunk enough.” Brian met Jimmy’s raised eyebrow. “Well, almost drunk enough,” he amended. “But there’s not enough left to make me unconscious so what's the fucking point? You can go ahead and kill it.”

Jimmy set the bottle against his lips and tipped it up. Brian watched his throat working as he swallowed the last of Beverly's vodka. He felt a faint flush creeping up over his stubbled cheeks and down into his collar. He clenched his hands on his thighs and looked away.

“She taught me to shoot,” he offered, glancing along the steel rails of the morgue tables. 

“Me too,” Jimmy exclaimed.

“Really?” Brian teased, back on comfortable ground again. "Can't tell."

“Yeah. I was terrible at it.”

“You are a pretty terrible shot,” Brian agreed amiably.

Jimmy elbowed him in the side. “I’m a latents analyst. What the hell do I need to shoot properly for anyway?”

Brian looked down at his hands again, sliding dizzily between grief and affection. “Jack hand-picked her from Quantico. She was top of her class.”

“I think I knew that.”

“We went out once. Did you know that?”

Jimmy put his finger in the neck of the empty bottle and spun it around and around in a chattering circle on the tile floor. “I didn’t.”

“Yeah. When she first started. We had a good time. Thai food and beer from that place in Fredericksburg. I took her home and kissed her at her door.”

“Classy move."

“I’m a classy guy.”

“So what happened?”

Brian shrugged. “It was like kissing my sister.” 

They shared a long moment of silence. Brian struggled against the unexpected sob caught in his chest. 

“I’m going to miss her so much,” he gasped finally.

Jimmy nodded, mouth trembling again. “I know. Me too.”

Brian swallowed hard and gritted his teeth against the clawing grief.

“You can,” Jimmy offered gently. “Cry I mean. It’s ok if you do.”

A spasm of sorrow contorted Brian's face and he let his head fall onto Jimmy’s shoulder. He kept himself in check until he felt Jimmy’s arms come up around him, pulling him a little away from the cold steel morgue drawers. Then he gave in to despair entirely, a rush of tears soaking Jimmy’s pale checked shirt. Jimmy rocked him slightly and kissed the top of his head.

“It’s ok,” he murmured into Brian’s hair. “It will be ok.”

Brian clutched Jimmy's back. “She's in pieces, man," he sobbed helplessly. "How can it ever be ok?”

Jimmy sighed, his own eyes wet again. He really had no answer to that. He hugged Brian a little tighter and just held on, riding out the storm of mourning with him.

“Sorry,” Brian hiccuped finally, tears trailing off. “I’m sorry.”

Jimmy shook his head and swallowed against the lump in his throat. He cupped a hand comfortingly around the back of Brian’s neck. “Please don’t be sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

Brian lifted his head and looked down, sniffling loudly. “Fuck. I got snot all over your fucking shirt.”

They looked at each other, eyes red-rimmed and glossy, then started cracking up.

“You want to go?” Jimmy asked as their labile laughter faded to intermittent giggles.

“Yeah,” Brian said gratefully. “Can you take me home?”

Jimmy nodded and struggled to his feet then reached down to help Brian up. Brian staggered slightly and leaned against Jimmy to balance himself. When they were relatively stable on their feet, they turned and pressed their palms briefly against the icy steel drawers, leaving behind the ghostly imprint of their warm hands. 

"Goodbye, little sister," Brian murmured.


End file.
